


Mosche Morte

by lesbianmermaid



Category: Ragnatela
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Incest, Italian Mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:06:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianmermaid/pseuds/lesbianmermaid
Summary: Garland City, 1984. Darla Mallozzi has one goal in mind: to replace her father as the head of the Di Scarpetta crime family. Every thing seems to fall into place when she meets the calculating and beautiful Vittoria Borghese, who is vying for her own father's position as Don. They share a goal, a mother, and the ruthlessness to cut down everyone who gets in their way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ragnatela](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942924) by [Quieta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quieta/pseuds/Quieta). 



Tires squealed outside.

  
The sound of a car door slamming could be heard from the small dining room table Vittoria Borghese and Darla Mazzoli now sat.

  
Darla’s heart quickened. Her pop wasn’t supposed to be home until after sundown.

  
Before either she or her half-sister could move the front door was thrown open.

  
“I need your help.” Simone Winslow said bluntly.

  
Her car was still running outside. In the back seat lay a dead body.

 

* * *

 

Simone Mallozzi, now going by Simone Winslow, had planned on spending the day in her apartment, picking up while her girlfriend Geraldine Abelman was away at a special lecture from some famous sculpture halfway across the city. That had been before she stepped outside and found a dead man on her stoop.

  
The bloody note pinned neatly to the man’s jacket lapel read “To the daughter’s of Patience, I know who you are and what your game is. Careful now.”

  
Right after Simone got done vomiting on the sidewalk and hyperventilating, She dragged the dead man into the back seat of her car and stepped on it.

* * *

 

Vittoria soothingly rubbed circles into the back of Simone’s hand while Darla paced back and forth.

  
The TV from the living room could be heard in the background. Giovanna Mallozzi, the youngest of Patience and Salvatore’s three daughters, was blithely watching an old movie and sticking her little freckled nose out of her sister's business.

  
Darla stopped her pacing. Her mind whirred as she pieced together fragments of clues in hopes of discovering something. She sat and reread the note. It was written in a neat and educated Italian hand. It had to be from the Borghese family. It had to be.

  
But who? Who found out about Vittoria and Darla’s plot?

  
“I know a place we can bury the body.” Vittoria offered in a calm and cool tone.

  
Darla didn’t know how she could always manage it.

  
Calm and Cool.

Nothing like Darla’s memories of their shared mother. Patience was always yelling and fighting and frothing at the mouth. Patience was like Gia. Patience was like Darla.  
Patience was not like Vittoria.

  
Calm and Cool.

  
“Where is it now?” Simone asked. Her doe-brown eyes stared blankly at the table.

  
Vittoria continued to massage her limp hand.

  
Calm and Cool.

  
“I stuffed it under the porch. We need to get rid of it before Pop gets home.” Darla replied.

  
Salvatore Mazzoli was not an understanding man. It had been a huge risk bringing Vittoria here in the first place.

A mistake.

That risk and that mistake were now amplified beyond belief now that there was a body that needed to disappear underneath the porch. Not to mention Little Miss Loud Mouth in the living room had witnessed the whole thing. Giovanna was 14 and had the sense of a rock. Knowing her she’d brag to the whole neighborhood that there was a dead body under her porch.

  
“We should examine it again. Any clues who had left the body are vital.” Vittoria said.  
  
Darla absentmindedly hummed in agreement. Her mind was lasered in on where she could put the body. She couldn't let herself worry about the  _later_ before she found a solution to the  _now._

  
The TV volume lowered.

  
“Hey, Darla?” Gia’s voice called from the room over.

  
“Yeah?” Darla replied. She rubbed her eyes.

  
Simone shuddered and Vittoria patted her shoulder.

  
“So, I know the dead guy like wasn’t here earlier and all, but do you think Andrea might have seen who dropped it off?” Gia asked.

  
All three girls straighten their backs.

  
“ _Andrea_?!” Simone demanded from her seat. “Andrea _who_?!”

  
Gia’s groan of annoyance was easy to hear even from the room over.

  
“You know. Andrea? Our brother?” Gia replied with all the snotty I-Know-More-Then-You attitude a teenage girl could encompass.

  
Darla made eye contact with Vittoria.

  
Andrea?

  
The half brother who Vittoria was trying to replace as heir to the Borghese family?

  
It answered the question of who knows about Vittoria and Darla’s alliance.

  
But what was he doing with _Gia_?

  
“He’s really nice. He told me that my eyes reminded him of mom, which was kind of weird but I think he meant it as a compliment. He took me out for ice cream after.” Gia prattled on, oblivious to her sister’s frozen state of panic.

Simone shot up from her seat and marched to the living room, her face reddening with rage. Vittoria stood and she and Darla quickly made their way to follow her.  
By the time they reached the living room, Simone had hauled Gia up by her long black twin braids and was screaming in her face.

  
“Do you have _any_ idea of how dangerous what you today was? What kind of _idiot_ are you? You don’t go out for ice cream with _fucking_ strangers!” Simone howled. She shook Gia and pulled at her long curly hair. For once Gia’s expression looked properly afraid.

  
Darla lunged forward and wedged herself between her sisters.

  
“ _You_! You’re just as fucking bad, Darla! You and your little fucking _quest_! Trying to replace dad as Don! You should be _ashamed_. Not only have you put us all in fucking danger you’ve dragged Gia and me into it. I hope you’re very proud of yourself.” Simone seethed.

  
She shoved Darla away and stormed out of the room.

  
“And take care of the _fucking_ body!” Simone yelled before slamming the door behind her.

  
Darla let out a long exhale.

  
“Ow,” Gia mumbled as she rubbed her scalp.

  
Vittoria shook her head.

  
“Well, we can go dispose of the body, now we know who left it at Simone’s.” Vittoria surmised.

  
Gia shot her a confused look. “Wait, you found it at Simone’s?” Giovanna asked.

  
Vittoria raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Yes.” She replied in a seeking tone.

  
That only seemed to confuse Gia more. “Well, then Andrea couldn’t have seen who left it after all. Is that why Simone got all mad?”

  
Vittoria opened her mouth and then seemed to think better of it. She gave Darla a meaningful look as she exited the room.

  
Darla’s shoulders slumped. It had been a really long time since she had seen Simone so upset. Not since Darla had told her Mom didn’t care about them had her sister turned so red.

  
She would have to find a way to apologize to Simone later. Right now Darla needed to take care of Gia and go bury a body.

  
Darla put a hand on Gia’s shoulder. “Gia. I need you to listen _very_  carefully. Do **_NOT_** tell Pop about the dead guy. If he gets back from the job before I do, distract him, but under _no_ circumstances do you tell him about Simone or Vittoria or the dead guy, _capisce_?” Darla pressed.

  
Gia shrugged her off. “Yeah, Yeah, ok I get it. I’m not stupid Darla, I can handle talking to dad y’know. I’m not a baby”  
Darla didn’t reply. She followed Vittoria out of the house to pack the body into her car.

* * *

 

It was a peaceful scene.

  
Salvatore Mallozzi sat with his youngest daughter Gia watching a baseball game. Gia had really liked baseball ever since she read about the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. They were so cool and athletic. Gia wanted to be a ballplayer one day. Or maybe a boxer or an opera singer. She wasn’t sure yet.

  
She sat cuddled up against her Papa’s side. She could smell gasoline, smoke, and cigarettes on his shirt, a combination she associated with safety and warmth.  
Papa had just gotten done with a hard job and is enjoying the evening with his baby girl.

  
Gia wasn’t sure what the job was, only that it was hard and Papa didn’t want to talk about it. He told her as much when he asked her to fetch him a beer.

  
They watched quietly together.

  
Someone maked a home run.

  
They both got a kick out of it. Gia shouted and jumped up with glee while Papa only grinned at her.

  
Salvatore ruffled her hair.

  
“That must have been something to see, eh Gia? Sitting in the front row.” Papa asks her.

  
His voice has a comforting rumble to it that made Gia snuggle closer to him.

  
She hummed in agreement.

  
It would have been really cool to see that in person.

  
Suddenly, in a moment of terrible word association and recollection, Gia saw fit to share something else with her father.

  
“Hey, Andrea said he’d take me to a baseball game sometime. If I’m a good girl and all that stuff. Maybe I’ll get to see something really cool, like the ball landing in someone’s face!” Giovanna chattered excitedly.

  
Salvatore stiffened and the temperature drops.

  
Giovanna notices neither of these things.

  
“Who’s this Andrea? He from the neighborhood?” Salvatore asks. He doesn’t like the idea of some boy trying to pry a date or something worse out of his little Gia. She’s just a baby for crying out loud, she doesn’t need boys getting in her face. Out of all his daughters, Salvatore thought he wouldn‘t have to worry about that with Gia. It wouldn’t be the first time he was wrong about a woman though…

  
“Oh, no Papa. He’s my half brother. He drops by school sometimes to talk to me. He’s kind of weird but he buys me stuff, so I guess he’s ok.” Gia replied.

  
Salvatore’s grip on his beer bottle is so tight his knuckles turn white. He stiffly stands up and leaves the room without another word.

  
Gia gives him a curious glance but otherwise turns her attention back to the TV.

 

It's soon after the yelling begins.  

* * *

  
It’s about 12 o’clock in the morning. Darla has just returned from burying a dead body with Vittoria.

  
She returns to the house to hear her father roaring with rage on the phone in the other room. Gia is sitting on her stomach watching movies on tv.

  
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T FUCKING KNOW? FUCKING FIND OUT!” Salvatore bellowed.

  
“What’s got Pop all excited?” Darla asked, a little annoyed she can’t go straight to bed. Darla spots blood on the sleeves of her sweater and quickly pulls it off. The last thing she needs is her father to see and start asking questions.

  
She hangs the garment over her arm and asks her little sister “What are you even still doing up?”

  
Gia is swinging her legs slowly and doesn’t turn from the TV.

  
“Papa’s mad because of Andrea,” Gia replies casually.

  
The words turn Darla’s blood to ice. She sharply turns to face her sister.

  
“Andrea? What about Andrea?” Darla demands in a sharp tone. “Did he come back?”

  
Gia didn’t reply. She was too busy jealousy looking at the model in the commercial and her small bust. Gia looked down at her own chest with annoyance. She wished she had a flatter chest.

  
Darla marched over there and grabbed Gia’s chin, yanking her face to look at her. “Answer me!” Darla demanded.

  
Her anxiety skyrocketed by the minute. Did Andrea come back to the house? Did he hurt her? Did he touch her?

  
The evil possibilities of what her brother could have done. If he was anything like what Vittoria said, he was capable of anything.

  
“Oooooowwe” Gia whined. She sat up and pushed Darla’s hand away.

  
“I just told him bout Andrea coming to see me at school.”

  
Darla blinked at Gia in disbelief.

  
“He’s been coming to your school?! Why didn’t you tell me earlier!” Darla cried.

  
Salvatore’s angry ranting from the other room increased in noise. “YOU GET THAT MOTHERFUCKER ON THE PHONE RIGHT NOW!” Salvatore railed.

  
“And why the hell did you tell Pop?!?” Darla shouted. This was just perfect. Great way to end a fucking fantastic day.

  
Gia just shrugged. “I dunno.” She mumbled. She fully directed her green gaze back to the TV.

  
Darla had never wanted to strangle her sister more than that moment.

* * *

 

It’s 4 am. Simone is peacefully sleeping with Gerry.

  
Simone came home, took a shower, and was relieved to find Geraldine back from her lecture.

She was just the person Simone needed to see. They had a lovely date walking around the park.

All the tension and horror of the afternoon melted away, leaving Simone feeling guilty for grabbing at Gia that way.

Simone knew she hated getting wailed on by dad and Simone wouldn’t want her sisters adding on to that if it were her. She’d have to apologize to Gia later. And give her a talk about trusting strange men.

  
Simone had no trouble falling and staying asleep after coming home from her date and having back breaking sex with Gerry.

  
Or she would have been if the phone hadn’t rung.

  
The shrill ringtone jolted Simone awake.

  
She groped her nightstand and answered the phone.

  
“Hello?” She says into the phone blearily.

  
She was rewarded with her Pop screaming on the other line.

  
“DO YOU KNOW WHO ANDREA FUCKING BORGHESE IS? YOU KNOW WHY HE’S SHOWING UP AT YOUR FUCKING SISTERS SCHOOL? IS THIS YOUR MOTHERS DOING? HAS SHE BEEN AROUND AND YOU DIDN’T FUCKING TELL ME?” Salvatore shouted.

  
Simone had absolutely nothing to say to that.

  
“I don’t know anything about it. Call me back at a decent time.” Simone robotically replied.

  
She hung up and stared straight at her wall.

  
_Oh shit._

  
The phone began to ring again.

  
Gerry sat up in bed. She rested her head on Simone’s shoulder and cupped her breast.

  
“Everything ok, dollface?” Her girlfriend asked sleepily.

  
Simone couldn’t reply.

  
She was too preoccupied with what Pop’s knowledge of their brother meant for her. What it meant for Darla and Vittoria. And most importantly what it could mean for poor Gia.

  
The phone rang again.

  
Gerry turned to face it.

  
“Do you need to answer that?” She asked in a worried tone.

  
Simone snapped out of it.

  
“Yeah.” She replied dazedly. “Yeah, maybe I should.”

  
Simone leaned to answer it and Gerry crawled back to her side.

  
“Hello?” Simone’s greeting was more hesitant than her last one.

  
“Oh, thank god you answered. Look I know you’re pissed but Giovanna fucking told dad about Andrea. He’s been showing up to her fucking school, Mona. Vittoria isn’t answering, I’m losing it.” Darla’s stressed voice filtered through the phone.

  
The puzzle pieces were clicking in her head.

  
“Oh, fuck,” Simone replied.

  
Darla spoke again but Simone wasn’t listening.

  
“No, Darla, you don’t understand, Pop just called me in an uproar yelling about if I talked to Mom or if I knew who Andrea was. He, he thinks Mom is putting Andrea up to it, Darl. He doesn’t get it. You gotta make sure genius over there doesn’t fucking tell him either.” Simone insisted. Her heart sped up. She glanced at Gerry to see how much she heard. Thankfully, she had fallen back asleep.

  
Darla was worryingly quiet.

  
“Darl?” Simone asked.

  
Darla sighed.

  
“Yeah. No, you’re right. Pop can’t know. I’ll try to talk to Gia tonight.” Darla replied.

  
“And get a hold of Vittoria while you're at it. She’s got as much at stake as you, and there’s gotta be something she can do about her creepy brother. I don’t like this guy following Gia around, I don’t care if he’s our brother. It’s weird.”

  
“No, you’re right. I’ll see if I can get a hold of Vittoria. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

  
“Darla? Get some sleep while you're at it. You’ll need it.” Simone said.

  
The dial tone rang out.


	2. Chapter 2

Vittoria sat cross-legged across from her mother on the genuine leather sofa.  
  
Patience Winslow faced her with the same steely green eyes as Vittoria, her chin up and her mouth downturned.  
  
Vittoria and Patience continued to stare at each other while the clock ticked in the background.  
  
“I imagine you know why I asked you here today?” Vittoria asked. She kept her tone polite. No need to raise her mother’s heckles.  
  
Patience narrowed her eyes. “Not the slightest clue.” She shrugged. Her gaze dared Vittoria to challenge her.  
  
Vittoria accepted.  
  
“I’ve met a very interesting young lady recently,” Vittoria began. Her lips quirked up, and she carefully molded her expression into one of reserved pleasure. “Darla Mallozzi. Have you met?” Vittoria asked, fully knowing the answer.  
  
Patience didn’t react to the question. “What do you want?” She asked her daughter instead.  
  
“From you? Nothing, _Mama_. What I want you can’t give me. Only Papa can do that.” Vittoria answered.  
  
She leaned forward and grasped her mother’s small hand and gave a distantly affectionate smile.  
  
“I want to give you something, _Mama_. Reassurance.”  
  
Patience snatched her hand away. “Listen here, you little shit, you stay away from them. None of your sneaky bullshit.” Patience snapped.  
  
Vittoria’s smile didn’t fall a fraction. She didn’t flinch or react at all.  
  
Vittoria only cocked her head in an almost mocking display of surprise.  
  
“But, _Mama_ , don’t you want to hear what I have for you? It’s been years since you’ve seen my little Mallozzi siblings. Simone is going to college. Giovanna looks just like you.”  
  
Patience deflated. Her eyes get wistful and Vittoria waits for her to take the bait.  
  
Her mother doesn't disappoint.  
  
“... what about the boy?” Patience asks grudgingly.  
  
Vittoria’s smile warms a few degrees. “He’s got a scholarship to St. Joseph’s. He’s on the honor roll. He takes after you with his looks too. He’s much sweeter than I’ve ever seen you, although.”  
Patience’s back slouches and she’s weighed with the information of the children she abandoned. Vittoria has her desired result and got up to leave.  
  
Before she leaves, she turns to her mother one last time. “If you could keep an eye on Andrea, _Mama_ , that would be very helpful. He seems to be overly fond of little Gia’s resemblance to you.”  
  
Vittoria didn’t need to look at her mother to know the disgusted horror that dawned on her face.

* * *

  
Gia was having a blast at the boardwalk. There were tons of rides to try, game booths for her to lose at, and delicious fried food for her to gobble at alarming rates.  
  
“Do you want to go on the teacups, _Piccolina_? They’re my favorite.” Andrea asked her. His voice was soft and pleasant as he was.  
  
He squeezed her hand, and she felt obligated to nod, even though she thought the teacups were for babies. He paid for their ticket and the two of them sat down. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. He insists on holding her hand whenever he can. It embarrassed Gia to be treated like a little kid but she didn’t want to make him feel bad either.   
  
The ride started and Gia let go of Andy’s hand to yank on the wheel to make them go fast, the way she and her Papa would when Gia was little and he’d take her to the fair. Gia gleefully glanced at Andrea to see if he would get sick. To her disappointment, his face was serene and pleasant as always. She pouted and yanked the wheel harder.  
  
 “You know, when I was young my _Mama_ would take me on this ride. It’s one of my happiest memories. She wouldn’t look at me with her cold eyes or scream at me, or ignore me, or argue with my father, or sit alone crying. It was just her and me, and her eyes were only for me. I didn’t have to share her with anyone.”  
  
Gia avoided eye contact and managed to keep her bored sigh in.  
Andrea had a tendency of going off about his childhood memories. Gia did her best to try to follow along, but he just went on forever about their mom.  
Gia leaned back on the seat of the ride and focused on the blurring colors rather than the odd look on Andrea’s face.  
He also had a habit of staring at her.  
Gia figured because she supposedly looked like their mother. He only talked about it all the time. Not that Gia knew from personal experience.  
  
“Gee, Andy, that's neat,” Gia replied. “Me and my Papa used to come here too.”  
  
Andrea smiled at her and soon enough the ride ended.  
Andrea exited the teacup first and then moved to help Gia out.  
  
He laced his fingers with hers. Gia tried not to mind though. Maybe that's just how big brothers were.  
  
“Where do you want to go next, _Piccolina_?” Andrea asked. He pulled her close to him and Gia was again shot with the memory of coming to the fair with her papa.  
  
He’d walk with her in a one-armed hug around the grounds with Junior and so they wouldn’t wander out of sight. She remembered going to the top of the Ferris Wheel and making Junior cry because she wouldn’t stop making it swing. Papa had gotten so irritated.  
  
“I wanna go on the Ferris Wheel,” Gia answered.  
  
She didn’t wait for a reply. She knew he wouldn’t say no

* * *

 The time to make her move.  
  
Vittoria and Darla sat in Vittoria’s car, watching the house their intended victim was living in.        
                
The man’s name was Stewart Phillips, and he owed a lot of money to Darla’s father. Stewart was a banking operative who lost his value was going to be killed today by a man named Tony Lorenzo, a small-time member of the Di Scarpetta’s.                         
Before that happens Darla intended to get a hold of him first.       
                                                                  
 “As far as I know, Phillips has 50k stashed in a safe that he was supposed to have put in Pop’s account. If you get that, I can pry the information about the coke out of him.” Darla informed her sister.  
  
Vittoria said nothing. Darla turned to look at her.  
As she scrutinized her sister's appearance, she couldn’t help but notice the differences between them. Vittoria had the same green eyes as Gia and long blonde curls. Her nose was a refined aquiline as opposed to Darla’s button shape. Both women were tall but Vittoria has a conventionally pleasing figure in contrast with Darla’s much to thin frame. It was hard not to be jealous of her sister.  
Darla was snapped out of her thoughts when Vittoria turned to her and smiled.  
  
“Well, shall we then?” She asked serenely.  
  
Darla unbuckled and headed up to the house.  
  
Phillips was sitting duck taped to a chair, blindfolded.  
He was trying not to sob. He thought he had more time to either pay Mallozzi back or run.  
He could hear heels clacking.  
Heels?  
If anything it made him cry harder. What type of fucked up shit was coming his way if he was hearing heels?  
  
“I’ve got this if you’ve got the safe.” a low female voice stated.  
  
The clacking sound drifted off. Phillips tried to turn his head to guess where they were going and was rewarded with a blunt blow from the other side of him.  
  
“I don’t want to spend more time here than I have to, so Let's make this quick. Where is the coke stored?” The Lady asked. Her tone was stone cold.  
  
Philips’s head lolled to his shoulder as he tried to think through the pain.  
His wrist was pulled back and one of his fingers was being gripped. He stiffened and struggled to keep his head up through the pounding in it. He knew what would happen to him if he didn’t answer and fear paralyzed him.  
  
“I’ll ask again. Where is the coke stored?” The Lady repeated.  
  
_CRACK_  
  
Phillips howled in agony.  
He almost whimpered out what she wanted to know.  
  
Almost.  
  
But what if this was a test? What if Mallozzi sent some freak to see if he’d squeal?  
The thought of what Mallozzi was capable of kept him from forming any coherent sound.  
_  
SNAP_  
  
Philips whimpering of pain turned into screams.  
“When you run out of fingers, I’ll move on to toes. We can do a more permanent removal if that still isn’t enough to convince you. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll make it quick.”  
  
_POP_

It took Darla the hand and a thumb to get the information out of the poor slob.  
Vittoria came waltzing back with a duffel bag full of money.  
  
“All done?” The Blonde asked.  
  
Darla nodded and stepped away from the man. She pulled out a gun from her jacket.  
  
Vittoria hefted the duffel bag off her shoulder. “And what do you intend to do with that?” She asked.  
  
Darla looked from the gun to her sister. “Well, I was going to kill him.”  
  
The man’s muffled sobbing increased in noise.  
Vittoria tutted.  
She sauntered over to the man and pulled out a blade from her own jacket.  
“What kind of message will that send them? Open your mouth, _caro_ , you have something in need of removal.”  
  
Philips was still omitting garbled screams when he died ten minutes later.


End file.
